12 A Little Maryland Garden 
grey headstones. I think every county in 
Ireland was commemorated on these stones, 
from County Cork to County Tyrone. And, 
sharing this “garden of sleep’? with them in 
equal numbers, one read the liquid names of 
Spain, Vincente and Orestes, Soledad and 
Ramona. I have never forgotten the im- 
pression made by this joyous, flowery bury- 
ing place, so I got some pink valerian in 
memory of the Mission Dolores. 
Wallflowers I know were chosen to try 
to add to my stock, for I have had my 
sorrows by reason of wallflowers. In Cali- 
fornia they grow wild, and in a garden 
where I once lived there was a long row of 
them under the pepper trees. One February 
I sowed seed in the house of perennial wall- 
flowers, raised a number of little plants, set 
them out, and carried at least a dozen through 
a severe winter; read that bone meal was 
their favourite spring tonic, and sent for a 
package of bone meal. I had something 
brought to me with the message that the 
dealer ‘‘was out of bone meal, but this was a 
